reaching over to the volume control.
"The trick is to turn it down until you get the signal from a very narrow range, and then move the antenna until it's loudest and take the compass bearing."
Telford placed the headphones on Chip. He heard the faint signal, and he could imagine Henry snuffling around on his daily food hunt.
A moment later, Telford got the bearing, then moved the truck a quarter mile north to take another. "We'll get a preliminary fix on him by intersecting the two of these, then one that's pretty positive with a third. It's called triangulation."
"What happens then?"
"This evening I'll take the coordinates back to the trailer and compute Henry's actual location as of two or three P.M. Start his chart of movements, record his activity patterns, see how large his home range is, find out what he's eating."
Telford's trailer was in the RV park not far south of Dunnegan's.
"I'd like to see you do that sometime."
"Whenever," said Telford.
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JUST after noon, they sat on the tailgate of the four-wheeler and ate their lunch.
"You miss Columbus?" Telford asked.
Chip said, "No, I don't miss it. I'm having too much fun here. But I had a lot of second thoughts until you came along."
"You were separated from your father for a while?"
"A long while."
Chip looked out over the swamp thoughtfully. The sounds from it were always subdued at midday during the summer. Even the insect buzzes were softer in the noon sun. Finally, he said, "After the crash, Dad started drinking. He went on a guilt trip. Said he should have been aboard the plane. Stayed drunk most of the time. Lost his job, lost our house after borrowing against it. I didn't see him for two years. Then he came to Columbus, came to my grandparents' house loaded, almost falling down, and Gramps ordered him away...."
Telford listened, face a blank, eyes focused up the trail.
"The AA people say to talk about it. Anyway, Dunnegan rescued him and started him off at AA. Got him the spillway job and started him painting again. That was four years ago. Dunnegan served with him in Vietnam."
Looking over, Telford said, "He seems fine now."
"He is. Said he hasn't had a drink since he came here. But it's been tough for him, I know. Sometimes I don't think I'm helping him by being here. I remind
him of what happened. The first night I was here I took off my cap. The hair grows on one side of my head, but not the other. Like this..."
Off came the cap.
Telford tried not to react to the semi-Mohawk appearance. It was carnival-freakish.
The cap was replaced.
"Dad closed his eyes and went outside. So I've kept it on ever since, except when I sleep."
"Things take time," Telford observed, still shaken by the sight of Chip's slick, scarred half-scalp.
"I wish he'd find a woman who'd live back here with him. When I go to Ohio State, he'll be alone again. I asked if he'd ever remarry. He said, 'Someday, maybe.' Not much of an answer, is it?"
"He's probably not ready."
"After ten years?" Chip asked, with a sad half-laugh.
Telford shrugged. "Has to be his decision."
"Have you ever been married?"
Telford chuckled. "No. Close a couple of times. I have a girl in Raleigh who'll come and live with me during July and part of August. We'll probably get married once I get my Ph.D. Two years down the line, I'd guess."
"I've never had a girl. I'd like one."
"It'll happen."
"I don't know. The way I look, not many girls will
exactly break the door down. All I'd have to do is take my hat off and they'd say, 'Yikes! What a weirdo!' I've heard that's what some people call me."
"The right girl won't."
"To be honest, I've got some more hidden deficits. Scars from my navel to my breastbone. They've taken skin for grafts from my right side. Put me in shorts, and I look like I'm wearing bark."
"It just takes the right girl, Chip."
"I hope."
By two forty-five, they had other compass bearings, and Telford decided to set two more snares before calling it a
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